Sherlock - United Brothers
by ComedySuze
Summary: Sherlock's confrontational words in an Evening Newspaper leaves Mycroft disappointed with his brother. What the older brother doesn't know, is Sherlock has planned out a trap for the person he believes is responsible for the latest criminal case he is investigating.
1. Making Enemies

**I've decided to base a story on the Holmes Brothers, a story that takes an insight of their relationship and how events will test them individually.**

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**Sherlock - United Brothers**

**Chapter 1 **

"Mr Holmes, there's more to the simplest of things in life than surrounding yourself with people you don't know at the Diogenes Club." Christopher Smith, a smartly dressed, full time PA to one of Mycroft's fellow colleagues called this suggestion to attention.

"I find it helps me to take the enormous weight off my shoulders. So I don't find any problem with this whatsoever. I have no reason to socialize and mix amongst a handful of people, whom I have no intention of asking domestic questions to." Christopher sighed in slight frustration and then started to walk away when he realized Mycroft was dismissing this suggestion immediately and it didn't even look like he was thinking of contemplating the choice to reconsider his options for the evening. "I will see you on Monday, Christopher. Oh, can you please remind Susannah to come and see me first thing on Monday, as myself and her need to discuss a few important matters regarding the Hoffman reports." He knew Christopher was an exceptionally smart young man, but also that he was someone who didn't particularly like taking direct orders from other people.

"Will do Mr Holmes" The young man stressed before eventually exiting through the front office doorway, Mycroft was now left alone. He and Anthea were always the last of the personnel to leave the government office, everyday at 5:30pm. It depended really, as from time to time he temporarily held another office in another part of the building, however this certain office he actually preferred the most because it was suitably quieter and peaceful to sit in.

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There was a sense of precision and thoroughness in the air, while Mycroft was beginning to adjust himself to his own personal space at the Diogenes Club. Thankfully there were no members present at that moment, reading whichever Evening newspaper they had. He casually sat back in his reserved, usual armchair and opened up the latest copy of the London Evening Standard newspaper. He had been there for little more than 20 minutes or so and now as it was getting darker by the minute from the outside view of the members room, this never seemed to bother him too much. He continued reading quietly.

Most of the headlines never normally attracted his attention but that evening, one headline happened to grab his complete attention. _ "Scotland Minister accuses Conservative of favoritism and beginning a boring timewaster."_ He read on more.

_"Conservative backbencher Liam King_ _called out on the way he has publicly criticized Scotland's Ministers, after jokingly backing the famous detective Sherlock Holmes' suggestions, that Scotland is full of moaners and uninspiring ministers. Mr Salmond said "This is absolutely no laughing matter. Mr Holmes needs to get back to what he does best, by helping out the Metropolitan Police with their cases But let me tell you this, he has no right to make uncalled remarks about Scotland. I look forward to hearing what his response will be."_

"Oh Sherlock, what are you possibly trying to achieve? by interfering in Politicians business. Unless you've found another one of your so called, bamboozling cases." Mycroft wasn't feeling best pleased after reading about the potential, worrying trouble his younger brother might have undoubtedly instigated by making one or two of his own feelings loud and clear.

Quite clearly the eldest Holmes brother couldn't go one day without having to reading about his younger brother, becoming a renowned headliner on most of the country's popular newspapers, this was happening on a daily basis.

Once he had finished reading and gulped down a glass of his favourite drink, Mycroft rang Anthea, who was just on her way to meet him outside the members club. She answered with such calmness and confidence. "Let me guess...Baker Street, Mycroft?" She really did know of his unspoken of aims and intentions, outstandingly well. To tell the truth, this didn't surprise him by any means.

"Of course." Mycroft confirmed right away.

"Would John need to be distracted elsewhere?" She asked, wondering whether he wanted John to be out of the way, sent elsewhere, for when he makes the visit to Baker Street to talk to his brother.

"No that won't be necessary. I've grown to admire John's ability, for how he's coped extraordinarily well with my dear brother's profound behaviour." He found himself suddenly admitting to one or two certain things, which he had originally presumed wouldn't on any occasion, dare to cross his mind.

Anthea couldn't resist smiling while having a few of her own confidential thoughts on her mind. The impossible thought of John Watson having an unusual fan, in his best friend's respected and highly regarded older brother. The possibility of this, would almost certainly annoy and get on the nerves of the younger brother.

"Sherlock has a lot of explaining to do. As one way or another, I will be finding out why my brother has developed such a keen interest in the affairs in the Scottish Politics." Mycroft informed Anthea over the phone, before soon enough, making his way to leave the building while still clutching his phone in his right hand.

**End of Chapter**

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	2. A Brother knows best

**Sherlock - United Brothers**

**Chapter 2**

"Look Sherlock, I don't want to find myself playing as a referee, if Mycroft loses his patience with you." John announced, wanting to taking a firm and initiative stand. He didn't like playing the peacemaker whenever his friend happens to address someone or anyone else at the center of an investigation. Someone whom he might therefore go on to upset and anger in the process, particularly if he just so happens to dislike.

"Oh believe me John, Mycroft's not the type of person who resorts to the worst unforgiving threats imaginable. He's more likely to treat someone he knows, as if they're more like a beginner at conversational tactics than a potential threat to him and the Government. They're are still the most surprising of things you have yet to know about my brother." Sherlock explained a lot of fascinating points about his brother, some of which he carefully chose to

"Like what?"

Sherlock, in his quick way of clearly detailed thinking and understanding of the highest of perception, avoided giving an informative explanation to John. "...Anyway why don't we get back to the bigger picture here, of how the victim had gained unauthorized access to the Houses of Parliament...on the night that he was murdered. Clearly he was obviously there to find whatever information he could hopefully get on this certain Scottish Politician."

"And what info could the victim have possibly been desperately searching for?" John was playing catching up as usual, with regards to this recent case. He truly believed his friend practically always enjoyed leapfrogging and being ahead of Lestrade, when it came to pointing out key facts which related to the certain cases they were investigated. This didn't impress John to some extent.

Sherlock visioned himself at the identified scene of the crime and slowly began to study the victim's motionless yet smartened appearance, by walking around the exact spot where this victim was confronted by the unidentified killer. "A controversial cover up, of course. The victim... Andrew Miller was Glaswegian...the surname's a clue, a divorcee, father of two, well liked by many people but thought more of behaving like a sniffling gossiper by his employer. Clearly he wasn't as he felt he had to prove to everyone he worked alongside, just how much his job meant to him." The consulting detective had pretty summoned up everything, given answers to the asked questions, regarding this particular case.

He then consciously placed himself at nighttime, 300 yards outside of the Houses of Parliament. Two people were sharing an intimate moment, Sherlock could see a shocked looking Andrew Miller, hiding in the doorway of one of the nearest building, the 38 year old was eye-witnessing everything. "The reason for why he was killed, was because he had saw something he wasn't meant to see, a passionate embrace between two people, Rachel McDonald and this married politician Samuel McKenna, Of course, everyone likes him, so there would be no reason for him to risk the huge popular reputation that he has single-handedly gained for himself, by silencing Andrew forever. But for some reason nonetheless, somebody else felt they needed to do so."

John's voice bought him out of this, out of the blue when he chose to ask him about where they needed to start first with this case. "Any ideas, on who we might need to pay a visit to first?...You know, before Mycroft gets wind of your latest case and forbids you from angering the Scottish MPs any further." He thought best to ask now, rather than later, at least before the Holmes brothers started trading childish insults between one another.

"Yoo..hoo...Sherlock, your brother's here." Mrs Hudson suddenly informed him from the stairwell.

"Yes, thank you Mrs Hudson, for that considerate announcement." Mycroft could also be overheard responding to her comment. By the raised tone in his voice, there was a strong inkling that the elder brother wasn't entirely happy at all. Sherlock gave the typical unsurprised look, as he relaxed back in his armchair meanwhile John looked surprisingly amused by the minor commotion.

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"This isn't childhood again Sherlock, where you're constantly receiving the high praise for being the smarter child in the room, dearest brother. No this is me, informing you that I don't like finding myself being kept in the dark, with whatever details are linked to one of your latest cases." Mycroft reminded his younger brother, that these difficult times nowadays were regularly changing more than ever and of the importance of how secrets shouldn't be concealed from loved ones who mattered the most to someone.

"I think you've got things the wrong way around. You know as well as I know, that our mother didn't consider me to be incredibly smart. She considered you to be the more smartest child Mycroft. Naturally I agreed with her, despite my reasonable annoyance." Sherlock quickly corrected him on this important enough matter.

"Now why doesn't that surprise me. You do realize don't you, you could land me in heaps of trouble, if you don't provide a decent explanation as to why, you've publicly nitpicked at certain Scottish MPs. Eventually journalists will find out the truth behind your reasons, now's the time to beat them at their own game. " Mycroft responded, with some surprising yet thought-provoking words of advise.

"Since when do you hate journalists?" A curious looking John asked, out of the blue. He glanced back and forth between both of the brothers, Mycroft's registered, telling expression betrayed his steely posture.

"I've never seen eye to eye with them John, especially on several occasions nonetheless. To be specific, let's just say...pointless accusations and threats of intrusion were aired and vented by them. Luckily nothing came of them but still, a few of the Government departments including mine, continue to have a frosty relationship with the press." Mycroft suddenly revealed quite a startling story about the public relations with the media.

"Fine if you insist on being in the know Mycroft, I shouldn't keep you waiting any longer...if you wanting the truth from me, on why I berated these so called politicians." Sherlock marginally stressed, knowing he couldn't keep the investigation quieter for a moment longer.

"Well no time like the present, seeing as some of us, don't prefer to enjoy the option of having to endure a bit of a time-waster." The older brother gave the distinctive impression that he might be losing whatever patience he had left. He smirked in thought as he reminded himself of a previous childhood memory, clearly he knew Sherlock did occasionally like to drag out speeches and answers, for however long it was possible before finally giving when he became bored.

"Bossiness doesn't suit you. Fine if you must know, myself and John are investigating the death of a man named Andrew Miller. He had the misfortune of uncovering an affair between Samuel McKenna and a businesswoman." Sherlock retorted, providing his brother with the only facts and info, they had known with regards to this case.

"And let me guess you believe, someone had decided to take matters into their own hands, by making sure they were able to permanently stop him from going to the press, with evidence of this alleged affair." Mycroft asked, smirking evasively. Some of the handwritten evidence and facts were currently pinned up on the landscape map poster, which Sherlock had chosen to place up on the wall. The Consulting Detective pretty much preferred this more than one of those "boring old evidence boards".

"And of course, you're here to tell me I'm bound to earn myself a nationwide ban from entering Scotland?" Sherlock countered, his ways of thinking had persistently been capable of outsmarting Mycroft, at every given opportunity possible. He scoffed, deliberately turning his head away, so he could think more clearer.

"You do realize you may land us both in the deepest of trouble, if these allegations of this affair and the murder got out. You haven't visited the crime scene yet you've gathered enough knowledge from that ridiculous mind memory of yours, to know that planned foul play was committed with this particular murder. I don't know how you manage John, to keep your concerned thoughts under wraps."

"You know, it's the type of question I keep asking myself." John jokingly commented. An amusing comment which failed to raise any hint of a smile from his friend.

"I've already examined the crime scene...earlier this week, the night after the murder had taken place. Messy and untidy main office, there weren't any signs to suggest that a violent struggle had taken place. George thought it otherwise, obviously." Without a food for thought, Sherlock by now had skillfully deducted every accurate detail of the murder scene.

"Greg, not George." John amended his friend's name-dropping mistake. Both brothers raised their eyebrows in surprise.

"If you're considering the option of risking everything for yourself dearest brother, by approaching and asking certain people questions, around or within Westminster. Then my advice to you, would be to tread carefully." Mycroft remarked, from time to time he had worried a great deal with regards to his younger brother's personal safety. Well it obviously that's what an older brother was importantly meant to do in life, especially for a younger sister or brother, who was inexperienced, struggling to adapt these ever-changing times in life.

"Oh for heavens sake Mycroft. I'm perfectly capable of minding my own safety." Sherlock argued back, in a less argumentative manner.

"And mine ... I can make sure I'm safe as well." John admitted, he felt like he was becoming the elephant in the room, whenever the brothers traded silly and immature insults at each other.

"There...you see myself and John are effectively capable enough of not putting ourselves in the spotlight, when we go and interview a few of Andrew's colleagues and one or two MPs in Westminster. There's nothing else for say on this matter anyway, seeing as I'm now bored of talking.." Sherlock complained, waving and flapping both hands around, frustratingly.

Sensing he might have overstayed his welcome slightly, Mycroft felt he ought to make a reasonable excuse to leave. "Well I'll be on my way. Please do feel free to phone me to let me know, on how your latest case is progressing." He bowed his head, gazing down, deeply in thought at the darkened carpet beneath his polished shoes momentarily before his eyes glanced up again, observing John's disappointed reaction then over towards his brother. He left, choosing not to utter another word.

"What the hell was that...Sherlock. He gave you the green light, to investigate this case and then you end up throwing his words of advice back in his face." John commented.

"I'm not angry at him, if that's what you want to know. He's behaving the way, he's preferably preferred to behave, by being the typical overprotective brother." Sherlock was quick to dismiss John's questions, he clasped both hands together, thoughtfully making a half prayer hands gesture.

Outside of 221b Baker Street, a shocked Mycroft was grasping his mobile phone and holding it against his ear, whilst examining a graffiti message on the side of his car. "Tick-tock Mycroft's going soft"

**End of Chapter**

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	3. Chapter 3

**Sherlock - United Brothers**

**Chapter 3**

Unbeknownst to John, the true reason behind why Sherlock had take it upon himself to find faults in his brother's comments was because he was more or less, playing a waiting game with him. Only he knew that a willing person from his notorious network had played a part in leaving a surprising message for the older brother. Unfortunately he couldn't be sure of the identity of the person responsible, who had stepped up to the plate.

"Your brother hasn't left...because his car's still parked in it's usual parking space outside here...but then again you pretty much know this already." While keeping close tabs on the comings and goings of Baker Street's residents and visitors, from the flat window, John had happened to catch a glimpse of the car parked outside between 221 Baker Street and Speedy's Sandwich Bar & Cafe. He wondered why he had bothered to open his mouth regarding this. Well his friend had more than likely probably figured this out by now anyway.

"Well it had to happen sooner or later, someone seizing the moment, with the crystal clear intention of making themselves known." The Consulting Detective soon presumed he had given away far too greater detail, too quickly. He hadn't actually intended to say anything at all but regrettably, a slip of the tongue was now perhaps bound to raise a few suspicions in John's mind.

Thankfully for him, John wasn't following the throwaway comment Sherlock had accidentally blurted out with regards to the graffiti on his brother's prized car. "Excuse me but what's that suppose to mean Sherlock?"

"I think one person from my homeless network has made their disliked feelings about Mycroft, loud and clear. You might as well, see the evidence for yourself before you argue a reason for why they simply had no perfect excuse to do what they felt they needed to do." Sherlock jumped up from his favourite armchair, threw aside his blue nightgown over the back of the armchair and retrieved his jacket. Soon enough the two of them were hurrying down two flights of stairs, past Mrs Hudson's small flat on the ground floor.

"Of course they had no bloody right. If your brother finds out who's responsible. The blame's bound to be pointed squarely at you Sherlock. Mycroft will accuse you of behaving childishly and immaturely, like a jealous younger brother, who doesn't think he's getting the praise he deserves.." John said.

Sherlock suddenly stopped himself in his tracks, from proceeding on towards the main front door. Both of them were now standing sideways by the new refurbished, rectangular mirror in the hallway. He was standing 20 centimeters in front of his Doctor friend, with his back turned to him. "Hmm, maybe I was wrong."

"What?, about what now?" John asked.

Believing this might be disrespectful, by keeping his head turned the other way, Sherlock decided to turn around to face John with a perceptive smile and explain what he accurately meant. "About you knowing just how long Mycroft can keep his cool and not buckle under immense pressure for. Normally he doesn't like being underestimated either, when someone attempts to play games with him. Believe me I've tried this as many times as possible and I've learnt that he doesn't like to be beaten while playing his favourite board game...Monopoly. When playing whatever game he's playing, he always prefers the winning mentality to help him beat an opponent."

"So he's more competitive than you are, Sherlock." John suggested while doing his utmost in keeping a straight face as well trying not to stop the likelihood of annoying him.

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After reviewing the evident graffiti message on the side of his brother's car, they saw the older brother sitting alone through the window of Speedy's, the two of them jointly decided to go inside there to join him. "Secrets are the walls that keep us alone, protected from the strangers of the unknown. Of course you know in that dream palace of yours, the identity of the person responsible for this dearest brother but your gut feeling is clouding your judgement."

"So we can establish that they've officially spooked you then?" Sherlock commented. From time to time on one or two lighthearted occasions, he did take some delight in seeing his brother looking as nervous as a cat at a dog show.

"This isn't the time or place to be behaving like a know-it-all detective." Mycroft responded, managing to resist slamming the palm of his hand, heavily down on the table. "Your so called homeless network is centered within the capital, surely you can delve deeper into the running of it. Handpick out some of the guilty party perhaps."

"I'm not sure my followers will like being suspected or their day to day activities being watched by one of your people." Sherlock defended his homeless network even though he believed Mycroft was actually right, maybe someone was deceivingly infiltrating the network for their own benefit or was planted by one of his enemies.

"Well I'm afraid, you will need to do so...pronto. Before this person makes a flagship move and strikes while the iron's hot, in their personal vendetta against me and my colleagues." Mycroft reminded his brother.

"Isn't there still the matter of finding out who killed Andrew Miller unless there's an plausible connection between these two, maybe it's the same person responsible for both of these cases." John raised quite an interesting opinion, one which the two brothers hadn't realistically thought of.

"You are on an extraordinarily high roll today John." Sherlock knowingly grinned back at him and then at his surprised brother.

"Well I think it's perfectly clear to see, that you've made a long-lasting influence on him, brother of mine. It's no wonder, he's extremely quiet most of the time. He's practically correcting you on plenty of occasions." Mycroft fought back with his own amusing comment, it was enough to wipe the grin off Sherlock's face at least.

John further impressed the both of them, with what he reckoned the person might be potentially capable.

"Look what if this person wants something to gain from this, 15 minutes of fame by killing Andrew Miller because he got too close to witness something he wasn't meant to or something far worse, wants to bring down the network altogether from within. Final suggestion maybe they work for one of your haters...enemies."

"We don't know if there's a genuine connection as of yet. What can we possibly find out is whether the infiltrator is nearer to Baker Street." Sherlock clarified by making an interesting suggestion of his very own.

"Why would this person be in hiding within this street? Wouldn't they be further away rather closer than you think?" John did argue another brilliant case once again but Sherlock remained focused and determined on hopefully being proved right regarding this gut feeling of his.

"The homeless network consists of people across the length and bread of the UK, Birmingham, Cardiff, Sheffield and Liverpool, those cities allegedly consists of the most intelligent of the homeless network. The killer or our wanted person obviously wants us to think this. To throw us off the scent, needless to say whoever this person is, they're not the brightest spark I've yet to encounter." Sherlock explained his given reason.

"He's playing the more annoyingly Sociopath card. Okay Sherlock I will do some background check on your network people, see which ones have or don't have criminal records." Mycroft finally caved in to his brother's plan of action.

"You may claim you're helping but what you're really thinking is, that my plan isn't going to go succeed and that the person we're hoping to find, will no doubt probably be one hundred steps ahead of us" Sherlock didn't feel the fundamental need to construe what was secretly bothering his older brother because he had pretty much known this already. However as they had grown up together, Mother Holmes had taught both of the brothers, that siblings are bonded together by a profound respect for one another and that one of them can usually sense a case of trouble in their brother or sister.

"Not exactly, I've offered to provide you with assistance, so what more do you wish of me to do, boss DI Lestrade around and call him George or Gerald?" Mycroft sighed, emphasizing a suggested proposal. He overheard a loud, chesty and turned to see where it was coming from, he noticed that the cafe/bar owner was gesturing for the three men to leave, as it was now 6:30pm, roughly closing time.

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Mycroft was now heading home for the evening, in the very same car he had arrived within, in Baker Street. Bearing the weight of responsibility of the promise he had given was obviously on his mind. Her employer's uncommonly, subtle body language hadn't at all gone unnoticed by Anthea, who had sensed how stressed he seemingly looked. Normally he had the habit of shrugging off any questions about possible bad health, she had smartly known that cigarette smoking wasn't at the top of his priorities nowadays.

She never dared to ask him the most personal of questions and so only dared to ask a work related question instead. "What time would you like to be picked up for your meeting with Thomas Hoffman on Tuesday morning?" She asked.

"The usual time, 8.30. Best to make do with getting ahead of any expected traffic-jams or roadwork." He was hardly giving much away with regards to the earlier conversation he'd had with Sherlock and John in Speedy's. "It's been a strenuous day for me and in my mind as of now I feel I could do with a relaxing weekend. Gods know I haven't had one of those in a long time." Mycroft made a surprising acknowledgement. Although he dearly loved his job, sometimes he wished that his profession and his personal life wouldn't clash so often.

Of course he hadn't forgotten about the task of completing background checks on the homeless network, that remained a high priority for him to undertake. Once he got the information he could find, he planned on phoning his younger brother to inform on this new information. As he took out his expensive smartphone from his jacket pocket, his attention was suddenly drawn to the flashing light on the top right hand corner of the handset. A new message had been left for him.

"You will never find what you're looking for. The impossible will always remain impossible. Time is of the essence and that time will not be helpful nor relevant for you nor you brother...Mycroft." The message was clearly intended to plague and torment Mycroft's perspective of the things that meant the world to him, especially the safety and well being of his brother and his parents.

**End of Chapter**

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	4. Helping Hand

**Sherlock - United Brothers**

**Chapter 4**

The next day brought out a whole new self-motivated confidence from within John, as he skipped half of his breakfast and instead got straight on with whatever work he had to type up on his laptop. This bemused Sherlock somewhat, soon enough the detective got to see the real reason, behind why his friend was suddenly keen to be logged online as early as 7:30am. With a slice toast in his hand, Sherlock decided to take an intriguing and lopsided look at what exactly was displayed on John's computer screen.

What he did see, instantly made him regret looking in the first place. John's blog was up and running after a seven day hiatus. Without opening his mouth for a change, Sherlock was instead quietly concentrating on, the upbeat and optimistic transcription of John's chosen words. The words which stood out and struck accord for the Consulting Detective was, Mysterious Loner, Rogue and Personality. He couldn't quite figure out why they did but felt reasonably hopeful and very positive about finding out whether they might indeed play a part in them, hopefully getting closer on locating this lone and wanted figure. This was only the best thing he could see on the computer.

However the same couldn't be said for the rest of the blog, as he believed it was giving the distinctive impression, that it might be going through a modest trend.

"For god's sake a grand makeover, as well as 50% good and 50% bad isn't a good time to be adding new followers to your website John." Sherlock calmly voiced his opinion on, his friend's sudden timing and decision making, on updating his famous blog at such a crucial time for them, given that this new investigation was in full swing.

"Blog and for your information Sherlock, I feel the followers on the blog need to be bought up to the date, with our latest investigation. If you run a blog like mine, then the first thing you need to put into consideration, is to be truthful and reliable about anything that you type. For example, like when something's on your mind about something you've seen on the news, then you share your genuine thoughts by typing them up on the blog and wait for a response." John decided to share an almost fascinating guide of helpful bloggers tips. He hoped it might awaken a possible interest from his friend.

"The mindset of a blogger doesn't attract my attention. However if they want to speak to me personally face to face concerning something important, then I will probably interested in picking up from their body language, what's troubling them. John I need my mind palace raring to go, like a Tour De France Cyclist. Your blog needs it's end sentence, _Sherlock will be more than happy to approve of when the next update will be published, for now it's goodbye until the next update." _He said with a flitted smile, much to the annoyance of an on looking John.

"That's not going to be taken lightly by followers of the blog." Despite expressing annoyance at his friend's unwelcoming comments, John felt Sherlock was correct and so chose to give the blog a much well earned rest. "Well anyway, I think you'll be glad to hear now, that I'm taking your advice and leaving the blog alone, at least for a few weeks." He remarked furthermore, before logging off and leaving the computer untouched.

"Well let's get back to the game of the familiar chase shall we, concerning us finding the mole within the network." Sherlock looked more enthusiastic than ever, in getting back to doing what he did best, unraveling complicated cases. Some of these so called cases which had ended up resulting in making him the famous and renowned deerstalker wearing, consulting detective he was today. He gave his trademark smile of confidence as he went to fetch his favourite coat from the coat hanger by the bedroom door.

"Mycroft hasn't contacted us as of yet. We're pretty much at the starting blocks with this case. I'd say you should at least wait for a few more hours." John tried to get this point across, as soon as possible. This however was to no avail, he knew it wasn't enough to persuade Sherlock to wait for and rely on his brother's call, as they had reassuringly arranged, only yesterday.

"No we're not going to do that, sit round like untrained dogs. Because I have perfect enough idea on where we should start...at Westminster..." Waiting and dependency were two words in which Sherlock disliked the most.

"Ah erm...Sherlock, are you forgetting what your brother, warned you about yesterday evening?" John had a good reason to worry and to express some unease at the possibility of the two of them, treading on uncharted territory, if they decided to approach one or two well known politicians without permission or let themselves into whatever rooms in Westminster, with the intention of looking for giveaway clues. The consequences might therefore result in Mycroft's job being under threat.

They would be risking a hell of a lot, in order for them, to get to the bottom of this complex case.

"Oh I'm sure he won't mind me and you, asking one or two questions about the victim. Like whom he didn't get along with and which colleagues were exactly known to be his genuine friends." It was absolutely no use whatsoever, in trying to encourage Sherlock, into not going ahead with this uncertain plan of his.

"I'm almost certain, he's going to be bloody well pissed off with you Sherlock." John still felt somewhat unsure regarding the next step of this fresh investigation. Naturally he knew his friend didn't have the ability of keeping quiet for more than five minutes, every night of the week. No wonder poor Mrs Hudson, fretted from one day to next on what to say to her favourite tenant. Of course she didn't wish to upset or anything with whatever she mentioned to him, this depended on whether he was in one of his frustrated moods or not.

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Mycroft Holmes from time to time, didn't like to feel the weight of the world of his shoulders, more or less he preferred to feel the responsibility of making a difference whenever it mattered the most instead. Right at that moment, however he felt as far away from this as possible. A genuine and worrying threat had been established against him and his brother. He began to wonder what this threat might actually include, more damage to belongings or properties, in which he used for researching background checks on active and operative criminals at large throughout Europe. For the first time in his life, he felt practically apprehensive and even stressed, to the point of not wanting to check on the personal security cameras, which were carefully fitted in and around his privately owned residence.

Staying put in the gym had certainly managed to ease a few worries which had constantly been niggling him for the last day or so. The regular paced footsteps and light jogging on the treadmill proved very useful, in helping to relax his mind for the time being. His father had taught him and his brother when they were younger, to defend themselves and to compliantly try and react level-headedly if someone, tries to tarnish the Holmes name. He had frequently respected his father's beliefs and way of thinking, when his mother had sometimes taken Sherlock out to the park, to feed the ducks.

Right now, he knew he needed a good, motivational boost, in order to put an end to this tormentor's intimidation. It seemed like he and Sherlock were in need of each other's help more than ever. Because he hadn't finished delving into the backgrounds of the homeless network, like he promised, he guessed without having to blink both of his eyes, that Sherlock would be willingly keen to find another way around this. Seek out the infiltrator within the homeless network and somehow uncover a connection that links this person, to the death of the victim.

Surely for his brother this would be an almost doddle, a walk in the park.

**End of Chapter**

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	5. Chapter 5

**Sherlock - United Brothers **

**Chapter 5**

Westminster; in Sherlock's eyes the very compound of this historical building, had successfully attracted his attention on many separate occasions every now and then, whenever he paid visits to it. However now on this fresh occasion, urgent matters needed addressing. For starters he was seeking to interview and analyze the behaviour of the office workers, who were friends with the now deceased Andrew Miller. He remained as optimistic as ever, on finding out as soon as possible about, whoever had the bona fide reason and had enough motivation to kill the victim.

As he and John walked beneath the huge building's front archway, the Consulting Detective's constantly functional mind began to start working like regular clockwise as usual, as visitors, security men and politicians hurried past him.

_50 year old male." _He glanced across fleetingly to his right hand side, to observe this person. "Non Smoker. Owns a Labrador" He could guess this because of the observable dog pores on this man's slightly creased waist length, trench coat. _"Father of two. Hates his job." _Once this man disappeared from view, amongst the crowd of people who were standing in the hallway, Sherlock gave a brief announcement, on where inside the building the both of them would now be heading off to.

"The Department of Research was the office that Andrew worked in. We need to ask his manager a few questions, hopefully he will be willing to co-operate with us." Sherlock looked around and then ahead of. He consciously tried to use his mind, in order to locate wherever this particular working department happened to be

"That's more like a task for Lestrade, would try if he's not getting the results he wants, with a case he's investigating." John made an interesting point regarding this thought. "So you haven't phoned him, to let him know, that you're planning to carry this investigation on behind his back." The former army medic felt his friend should have probably informed the police, with regards to this latest intriguing case. If he didn't bother to, then there were bound to be a few pissed off looking detectives.

"He'll know soon enough, what I'm up to. Well he always finds some way of pulling out, a trick of his own, when he gets curious." Sherlock didn't need telling, as he pretty much knew what Lestrade's expected might be like.

"Anyway so where is the Department of Research?" John asked, while his eyes searched for a possible board, that might perhaps list each and every office department on. He presumed that this outstretched and widened hallway, looked like a place you might easily get yourself lost within. Luckily for him, it was a very good job that Sherlock was casually standing alongside him then. He wouldn't possibly get them both absolutely lost, unless he got sidetracked or experienced a loss of concentration.

After much more considerable visualization, Sherlock knew exactly which direction they needed to take next. "Three corridors over on the far left hand side, pass the board meeting room and then it's the department next door to it." He gave a distinctive nod, gesturing in the direction of where he mentioned. The youngest Holmes brother therefore carried on pacing ahead of his friend, who followed behind him, as they walked straight on ahead in this so called direction.

xxxxxx

Back at Mycroft's office, he was sharing a conversation with a man named Gareth, who worked as a PA for one of Mycroft's fellow colleagues "Enemies prefer to keep you at arms length, they know your weakness and that helps them to use this to their advantage." Almost immediately he regretted saying a bit far too much than, he first expected himself to mention out aloud. No doubt plenty of concern and questions would be addressed for him by his many colleagues, he knew that they might most likely, question his state of mind.

"I wouldn't know this Mr Holmes, because I haven't come face to face with anyone acting suspiciously or who might hold a grudge against someone i know." Gareth was someone, who looked a tad unsure of himself and insecure, when discussing things he hadn't become adapted to, as of yet. Still he was only meant to be working as a trainee PA and undertaking routine tasks for Mycroft's colleague. A bright future obviously was still on the horizon for him, in which he would be embarking on over the next few years.

"You've got so much to be taught about, Gareth." Mycroft remarked, who always managed to have the unquestionable habit of being capable of guessing about which young, inexperienced office worker at the government department, would eventually succeed in their new-found yet promising career.

"I guess so." The junior PA smiled and then within a manner of moments , he left Mr Holmes alone with his many thoughts.

Mycroft was getting ready to make an important phone call to his brother, concerning certain surprising information he had uncovered about the homeless network. One or two individuals weren't as straightforward nor truthful as they claimed, according to financial forms or living accommodation forms they handed into the government, when being investigated for criminal activities. He had delved furthermore into these two individuals backgrounds and before he knew it, he discovered more criminal convictions against the two men. Unfortunately it couldn't be determined whether or not, they were simply two people, who just wanted to turn their lives around for the better by joining the homeless network or if they perhaps hadn't learned from their mistakes and hid themselves amongst this group of many people.

When he did eventually make the phone call to 221b Baker Street, around 10 minutes or so later. He soon found out that his younger brother wasn't the voice on the end of the phone, it was Mrs Hudson.

"Mrs Hudson, is my brother behaving petulantly, by not answering the phone to me?" This was always the typically behaved manner of Sherlock's, a few times whenever he conveniently attempted to get in contact with him.

"Oh I'm afraid he's not here at the moment, Mycroft. He and John left here about over an hour ago." She was able to remember overhearing her tenants, talking in the hallway about what seemed to be a new case.

"Well did the two of them say where they were going?"

"Houses of Parliament or Westminster, I'm sure I overheard Sherlock mentioning one of those two places. He never likes me eavesdropping when he's with a client or when he's relaxing." She responded quickly to his impromptu question.

"I should have guessed that my brother, has the lesser amount of patience like a chimpanzee." He described his genuine thought, in an ironic manner of speaking. He didn't mean to offend or anything with his remark but he did happen to feel extremely annoyed right now. He decided not to waste more of Mrs Hudson's time and so chose to end this brief phone call.

He didn't particularly enjoy being kept in the dark regarding this matter by his dearest brother, as he believed this looked more like a stubbornly, foolish move made by him.

xxxxxx

Howard Buxton-Thomas; a much respected and reverent manager of the Department of Research, wasn't best pleased after having a conversation disrupted by a talkative and inquiring Sherlock, who hadn't chosen to informally introduce himself yet to this man.

"Yes may I help you Mr...?"

"Holmes, Sherlock Holmes, this is my...friend Dr John Watson." Both John's eyebrows raised with such unpretentious surprise, as he began to take his friend's words on board and then tried to search for the right words to respond with, not that he considered opting to impress his trusty friend with whatever he thought about getting off his chest. Normally it certainly would be an belligerent challenge, with John defiantly standing his ground and pointing out that Sherlock needs to pay more close enough attention, to what stories his clients were trying to tell him.

"Hmm...that name sounds very familiar, your friend here, he runs some sort of internet blog doesn't he?" Sherlock looked unusually reticently, as he chose not to answer this considerate question which was put to him. It mattered more for John, to confirm this instead.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do." John said, the trained former Army Medic then turned away momentarily, flashing an unhappy look at his friend, also giving a shake off the head.

"We're here to ask you a couple of questions regarding a man called Andrew Miller, who we happen to know worked for you, for a short period. Did he ever upset anyone he worked alongside? Did he get along with colleagues?" Sherlock followed his usual strategic pattern of questioning.

"He was a good man, who wouldn't hurt a fly. He would always stay out of trouble whenever it occurred in this office or outside of the building." Howard answered, with such self-control and composure. There was nothing there to suggest at that moment, to suggest that he might be deliberately lying through his teeth. The uniqueness of his body language, surprisingly left Sherlock convinced that this man was telling the truth.

"Married with three children. Experienced golfer." Sherlock quickly acknowledged Howard's golfing shoes, placed by the cabinet drawers, in the corner of his office. "Business partner?" A golden plaque interestingly caught his attention before he was able to pick up on anything else, that may perhaps raise some debatable questions.

"Business Partner?" Sherlock asked.

"Erm...yes...Michael Barnes. He's on holiday in Paris at the moment, with his wife." Howard responded, still he was capably calm when boiled down to, giving a simply, straight forward answer. "We're you hoping for a chance, to get to speak to him as well Mr Holmes?" He positioned himself more forward while seated behind his smallish desk. Still no hint of flinching nor tension within his body language.

"Honestly not really, but if he does return early from holiday, I can give you this number for him to ring." Sherlock lightly gritted his teeth together for a second or two before producing an handwritten card, with contact details displayed on it. "It's highly important that he chooses to contact me or Gregory Lestrade." John reacted with absolute surprise, as soon as he overheard his friend, correctly pronouncing DI Lestrade's first name. He took at least five minutes to gather this, this left an oblivious Sherlock wondering, why on earth on was John thoughtfully smiling to himself. Hadn't he cottoned on to the fact, that this occasionally bothered him whenever he was playing his violin in the study room.

"I'll make sure I do Mr Holmes. I'm sorry I can't you help as much, with your investigation. I hope you find whoever was responsible for killing Andrew." Howard mentioned as he was saying goodbye to his two visitors. They all exchanged brief smiles between one another, before Sherlock and John then, left this widened and spacious office.

"Did you really think he was telling us the truth, just now?" John asked, he looked slightly unsure, for some unexplained reason. He carefully looked back over his left shoulder, wondering if Howard might reveal his true colors, by making a phone call to his business partner Michael.

"He didn't blink at any given time, while we were in his office. I'm afraid I actually don't suspect him of being involved with Andrew's murder. One important thing John, one slip that the killer gives away...is his or her alibi, on the night of the crime. That's one thing I've always happened to know, when someone reveals themselves to be the killer." Sherlock suddenly admitted to John, enlightening him about how now and again he preferred to genuinely use the good old fashioned way of working out, how a silent killer might make the mistake of revealing their identity. The forensics side of everything tended to help more, if the killer was clever enough to cover his or her tracks.

"Do you think Michael could be responsible for what happened to Andrew? I mean he's not here, for starters. What if perhaps, he knew who had committed the murder but the killer knew that Michael had seen what happened and so perhaps he's starting blackmailing him. Michael could have gotten scared and so he's probably decided to take his family on holiday, gets to spend plenty of time with them. So that might obviously help to take the weight of pressure of his shoulders. What?" John gave an nonplussed look, as soon as he caught a glimpse of his friend's impressed reaction, to the thought-provoking comments he had just made.

"You know that's the best speculative suggestion I've heard, with regards to this case. It's worth checking out the backgrounds of anyone who works closely to Michael Barnes." Sherlock commented, as he meticulously readjusted his scarf around his neck. They both affirmatively exchanged confident smiles between each other, before finally leaving through the front entrance of the Westminster Building. At the back of Sherlock's mind, questions were being cast, as he sidestepped past a 27 year old man, wearing glasses, who had given the famous Baker Street Detective a reason to suspect that he might be going to visit the Department of Research. The mysterious backpack, which he was wearing, soon enough set alarms bells off in Sherlock's mind.

"Sherlock what's the matter?"

"We need to go back and get security on alert, someone's out to make their intentions known." Sherlock and John turned back from where they walked from, quickly enough they were able to catch up with this mysterious individual. Both men began to wonder just how dangerous and threatening this man's intentions might truly be. Not wanting to wait another moment longer, John chose to phone Lestrade and inform of what was currently now going on.

"Okay I'll come as soon as possible. Can you tell Sherlock, he's lucky that I'm not going to tell his brother about how he shouldn't have trespassed his way into the Houses of Parliament."

"I'm sure he's very well aware of how wrong he's been in trespassing through the corridors of this building." John said, before ending the call. Knowing how worrying and nerve-wracking this might become, John offered to step up as he made another suggestion. "I served in the Afghanistan conflict, as an officer and an Army Doctor. If the worst happens, I'm offering to talk this man into going against whatever he's come here to try and achieve for himself. I've had to it before

"You're actually willing to do this." Sherlock asked.

"Oh yes, if it means having to possibly protect everyone in this building. Then I suppose it's up to me then." John didn't look too nervous about this possibility, if truth be told, he felt quite determined.

**End of Chapter**

**All Reviews are welcome**


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